


a sweet escape

by ElasticElla



Series: M(V)P Oneshots [1]
Category: How to Get Away with Murder, Scandal (TV)
Genre: (htgawm), (olivia's dad), (scandal), Crossover Pairings, F/F, Season/Series 01, Season/Series 03, implied emotional abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 00:40:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8776300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: It starts because Olivia needed to kiss someone who wasn't designed for her, someone who didn't fit the mold of every other person she's ever fallen in love with.





	

**eight.**

Her father looks tickled, it isn't ordinarily a good sign, but it means he probably isn't going to have her girlfriend killed and that's good enough. (She doesn't want to think about when Sunday night dinners became an exercise in defeat and defense.)

“I'll admit, I didn't like her much at first and I didn't think she'd last long,” he says. “A college girl studying in Philly that was brought up on the wrong side of the tracks? You love strays but you don't fall _in_ love with them Olivia.” 

He laughs with genuine amusement, and she sips from her glass deeply, doesn't care if she isn't tasting the ridiculously expensive Merlot. 

“But she makes you happy, and we both know she isn't safe yet- your plane's still ready. Take the escape.”

He reaches out to hold her hand, a careful orchestration. There's a glimmer of pride and happiness in his eyes. For just a moment, Olivia is weak; one moment, and she lets herself believe him. 

“Okay.” 

They were planning on leaving anyways. 

 

**three.**

It starts because Olivia needed to kiss someone who wasn't designed for her, someone who didn't fit the mold of every other person she's ever fallen in love with. It's freeing, rebelling without any real rebellion, sipping sweet matching cocktails. Instead of picking up a new bottle of red wine, she gets a new blender. 

It's not a midlife crisis, but seven years in the other direction feels close enough to one. They go dancing and smoking and drinking and schmooze any event they feel like frequenting. Olivia checks in, she has to check, that Michaela won't mind being in the society pages. Michaela laughs, and the cameras flash as their lips come together. (Admittedly, Olivia should have asked when they were both sober. But in the morning Michaela doesn't regret it, only looks over her shoulder a little more often.)

 

**six.**

Olivia has never been in a love like this before. It's easy and soft and gentle, but it isn't boring or predictable or normal. It doesn't hurt, but she still craves it and knows it's real. It isn't all-consuming, but it never fails to lift her spirits; her happiness has never come so fast or unafraid. 

Attachments aren't simple for either of them, it feels like a miracle they've already come this far. 

“I don't want to go back,” Michaela whispers one night, eyes squeezed shut. “I don't… I don't care if I have to start over, or if my credits don't transfer. I just, I can't go back there.” 

Olivia's fingertips brush through her hair gently, “Okay.”

And just like that, Michaela moves to DC for real. Just like that, and miracles are beginning to feel familiar. 

 

**two.**

“This isn't a date,” Olivia says as Michaela looks around the restaurant. She doesn't seem uncomfortable, which is a relief, it had been a risky move given the meal would cost more than what Michaela earned in a week. Then again, back when Olivia was her age she'd enjoyed many such meals, well dates, with Washington's elite. 

Michaela raises an eyebrow, doesn't have to say anything, her gaze drifting between the fancy decor and their dresses. 

“It's my father's favorite restaurant, and we're having a disagreement so I wanted to come here without him.” 

She smiles, thin and wry, “As long as you know I'm not paying for this non-date.” 

“What do you want?” Olivia asks. 

“The oysters look good-” Michaela starts, eyes on a nearby table. 

“No, I mean what do you want in DC? Do you want a job, an internship, a degree, a seat at the table- what do you want?” 

The surprise isn't as gratifying as usual, and Olivia shuts down that line of thought, waiting for her answer. 

“Anything?” she asks, toying with the smallest fork. 

“Name it,” Olivia says, and a cautious smile blossoms on Michaela's face. (This is the moment Olivia no longer suspects, _knows_ , she's screwed.)

 

**seven.**

Huck and Quinn find someone tailing Michaela. He feels normal dangerous, not super secret spy dangerous, so Quinn might get a little sloppy tailing him. But the man went into her favorite sandwich shop and she'd been getting hungry, completely forgot to pack a dinner.

It ends up with a man named Frank Delfino dead, sliced to bits at the bottom of the Potomac.

It ends up with Olivia telling Michaela over dessert, hoping she doesn't know him. 

Her eyes glitter at the news, but it must be a trick of the light, her darling almost cried, that was all. Michaela isn't like Huck, would never go that far. She's helped move a body, sure they've all done that. But she wouldn't help it get there- there can't be anything missing in her. (Because if there is then there must be something missing in Olivia too, something missing that makes playing God so easy.)

 

**one.**

Olivia wasn't going to say anything. It seemed like the girl could handle herself, but she was washing her hands in the bathroom and the girl came up next to her to do the same, and her lips moved without permission. 

“Jones is trying to appear more likeable. He needs to appeal to more moderates and women.” 

The girl blinks, “Excuse me?” 

“His ex-wife just went to the democrats, to his opponent's camp and he's trying to seem like it doesn't piss him off. But the cameras already caught his face when he found out, and Jones needs a new happy pretend apolitical story. Three months of dating before a long engagement- only long enough for the press to be begging for the wedding to happen already- and Jones wins his reelection.”

The girl almost shrugs, wiping her hands dry. “I'm just here for the free booze and networking.” 

“In that case,” Olivia says, “here's my card.” 

She takes it with a smile, slender fingers brushing against her own. “Michaela Pratt, nice to meet you.” 

 

**five.**

The press doesn't follow them often, but they do get some beautiful shots. Michaela changes her phone's background a few times before deciding on the one with them slow dancing together at Mellie's fundraiser. Olivia needs a plain phone background, so she changes her desktop instead. It's a different photo too, of them both in the Rose Garden, holding each other in the moonlight. 

James had taken the photo, completely killed the moment as well and if it'd been any other journalist or photographer they would have been looking for a new job. At the time she'd still been irritated, but Michaela was happy to meet James and the photo did come out rather wonderful. 

 

**nine.**

They're all alone on an island in the middle of the Pacific, all alone except for a weekly supply drop off.

It's perfection. 

Olivia spends Halloween morning rubbing sunscreen all over Michaela, their books long forgotten in the sand. It's a Sunday, which for Olivia means pushing away all the less-than-antagonistic feelings for her father for getting them here and for Michaela it means reading fiction instead of studying for her eventual return to a college. (She'd already sworn up and down at the new school, one without life-ending distractions, Michaela would be first in all her classes.)

Michaela sighs happily as rubbing lotion into her shoulders turns into a back massage, mumbling, “I love you the most.” 

Olivia kisses the nape of her neck, “I love you too.” 

The words never get old.

 

**four.**

“This isn't a date,” Michaela teasingly greets her, hugging her quickly. “Because we both know your business meetings last longer.” 

Olivia laughs, soft and a little too true. For a moment, she thinks about stopping everything, about letting Michaela go and live a more normal life with someone that can be around more often. It's still early enough that it wouldn't hurt her too much, that she could keep visiting DC without it becoming awkward.

But then Michaela's smiling at her and telling her about her day, and Olivia's too greedy, grips her hand tight. 

 

**ten.**

There's no letter. 

Michaela and Olivia are cut off from the world, and Olivia isn't going to give the world a chance to find them. They drink more pina coladas than anything else, and the only red wine she drinks is mid-range, turned into sangria with a bundle of fruits. There's nothing easily traceable- Michaela pouted the first day over being denied a kindle, but gave in for two new full bookcases. (She's still on the first, and Olivia's already thinking about where to place a third.)

She knows they won't stay forever. But she isn't going to break this. This is easy and good, and whenever Michaela wants to leave, they will. 

Until then or whenever forever runs out, Olivia's going to sit on the beach with her lover, holding hands and reading as the tide rolls in.

**Author's Note:**

> i [tumble](http://bizeke.tumblr.com/) & am taking crossover suggestions for this series, please keep in mind michaela starts htgawm at age 27


End file.
